I am become Graduate, eater of ramen

Hello again

So it's been quite a while since you heard from us. I bet you thought we were in trouble again! Nope, not in trouble, just distracted.

I guess most young folks in the LSJUMB have lately been far too interested in their day jobs of preparing to be America's lawyers, doctors, and search engine billionaires to take much notice of our humble blog. I say "young folks" because I, like quite a number of my pals, have crossed over and begun to walk in that mysterious land from which the only return is grad school. That's right, I graduated, and am now officially what the young punks call an "Old Fart" (I hear the original term in Mandarin has much more respectful connotations.)

So while the leaders of tomorrow spend their time in labs, running tests for jaded Post-Docs, I've been called up, urged to come out of retirement and ramble on for a few paragraphs. I guess Band knew I don't have job yet (Anyone out there know a TV comedy writer who needs an assistant? Better yet, anyone want to give me a TV writing job? I'll bring my own jokes!)

So here I am. I seem to recall that the last time I wrote here, I told you all what an awesome spring the band had ahead of it. As it turned out, the spring was more awesome than predicted. Over the next couple of days I'll try to scrape the rust off my memory (or maybe it just needs valve oil?) and retell some of the better stories. There were some good times. We played at an after school program, and some of the kids there have a famous NFL dad who really likes us. Who, you ask? Sorry, Band does not rock-out-and-tell. That was also when my academic advisor saw me in Band Mode for the first time. I tried to imagine what it's like to see your negligent advisee with an interest in modern American literature transformed into the tuba player in purple pants and a skunk hat. I liked my advisor, and I felt a little pressure to play well, until I remembered that it was her job to make sure I took that poetry class, not to point out how much I stumbled through "Crazy Train."

Here's a story...it begins at another event for the wee bairns. We were playing for a preschool/kindergarten's family picnic, which happened to also be the birthday of the inventor of the Aerobie flying disc. Earlier in the day, I had honored this occasion by going to Manz field to get a free aerobie, which I brough to the school rally. Since I don't sweat the music thing too much, I tossed the aerobie around with another band dude. We'll call him Wooley, because everyone else does. Now I remember a sloppy throw sending the aerobie over to the water activity table, where it disappeared. Some adept little sticky fingers made off with it. I was distraught, but I figured toys on a preschool playground are communal property, so the little absconder hadn't knowingly committed theft. Fortunately, when Band Time was over and it was Pizza and Juice Time, I saw my aerobie set down at the sand box table, and I quickly reclaimed it. In a charming coda to this part of the story, Wooley hid the aerobie after it was found, causing me to wonder if the preschool wasn't a Dickensian pickpocket academy.
The story continues a week or two later when I brought my aerobie to LSJUMB Senior Rehearsal, during which every senior gets to conduct the band for one song, outside on the grass. After I led the band in an inappropriately "Slow 'n' Funky" rendition of "Ruby Soho," Wooley (yes, him again) and I tossed the ol' flying disc around. Skilled Nordic sportsman that he is, Wooley managed deftly to lodge my precious aerobie in a tree. In the aftermath, a valuable lesson was learned: if one's aeroblie is lost in a tree, and throwing rocks to dislodge it is proving ineffectual, it is not wise to resort to throwing one's shoes in place of rocks. And that's the story of how I lost an aerobie and two slip-on vans in an oak tree at Stanford.

Well we're just startin' the old blog engine up again, so that seems like a good stopping point. There will be plenty more to come if I can find the right mix of bribery and intimidation to get Scott Bland or some other bright-eyed young bandie to be Blogmaster from now on. There could be more Spring Band recap, or perhaps just a whole lotta Football Season. The band is driving to Texas for the game against TCU next week, so maybe you'll get periodic updates from the 40 hour round trip, chonicling Manager Liz's descent into madness. Or maybe we'll let Jill W. tell you about her trip to Tanzania, if we don't think it's way too boring. Who knows? Some of you leave lovely comments after some posts, so how about you tell us what you want to see in the blog. We may ignore it, but even just posting a comment on the Band Blog makes you cool by association.

Class of '08 for life.
Coop